Clouded Consciousness
by Tanglepelt
Summary: Estonia discovers Latvia's drinking problem and confronts him. He finds out how broken his friend is, and realizes that it his partially his fault. -Soviet Union era- -Not yaoi-


Hello! This is my second Hetalia fanfic, so hopefully, it's not too horrible...

This story contains angst, hurt/comfort, and brotherly love between Estonia and Latvia. (It's not supposed to be taken as yaoi...)

Hetalia does not belong to me.

Enjoy...

* * *

><p><strong>Clouded Consciousness<strong>

Estonia narrowed his eyes as he looked at his watch.

_Eight-thirty, _he thought. _What's keeping Latvia? He should be here by now; there's so much work that needs to be done. I wonder where he is._

The blond's question was answered when he heard a loud thump, then a yelp, coming from upstairs.

_What did he say this time?_

As time passed, the yelps turned into screams. After awhile, those turned into sobbing.

_Why can't you keep your mouth closed, Latvia! _The bespectacled boy winced and wrung his hands. He knew in his heart that he should go upstairs, to defend his friend, but he couldn't; he was too afraid of what Russia would do to him if he intervened. Self-preservation always beat sympathy. Always. He sat in his chair and looked at his watch until the screaming stopped. After a few minutes, the smaller boy didn't show up downstairs, so Estonia began his work.

After completing both his and Latvia's tasks, the blond decided that he would relax for a bit (at least until Russia ordered him to do something else). He was exhausted; ever since Lithuania had left to live with America for the second time, he'd been doing double the work. Since Latvia was somehow unable to do his jobs today, Estonia had to do those as well.

Blinking tiredly, the Estonian shuffled into the kitchen with the intention of making some coffee. As soon as he set foot in the room, however, all thoughts of caffeinated beverages were lost.

Latvia sat at the table, a glass in his hand. This wasn't the problem; it was the opened vodka bottle on the table that worried Estonia.

_That's why Russia's vodka has been disappearing. He's been _drinking _it?_

"Hey, Latvia!" he called, making his presence known to the younger boy.

Latvia raised his head, and Estonia suddenly felt chills run up his spine. The small blond's normally wide eyes were narrowed into slits, and were staring venomously into his own. A large, painful-looking bruise marred his porcelain-esque face, while another was slightly visible on his forehead.

"What happened to you?" Estonia found himself asking, sitting next to his friend.

"Why do _you_ care?"

The bespectacled boy wasn't expecting this; Latvia wasn't normally this, this…angry. "Of course I care; I'm your friend."

"Yeah right." The small blond took a swig of his drink and turned towards Estonia. "Last time I checked, friends don't let their friends almost get beaten to death."

"You know we can't die unless our country fades away," the older boy replied.

"What a curse."

The chill Estonia had been feeling intensified. _What's wrong with him? _

"I hate him!" Latvia suddenly barked. "I hate him so much!"

"Don't go talking about Russia that way!" The Estonian turned his head nervously from side to side; he wasn't sure if the larger man somehow listened to their conversations.

"Russia?" The younger boy hiccupped before continuing. "Who said anything about Russia? I'm talking about that deserter. _Lithuania_."

"What?" Estonia was shocked.

"He left us for _America_. _Again!_ He didn't even want to take us with him! Did he even _think _about what would happen to me if he was gone? No! He betrayed me! Didn't he realize what happened last time? It's because of him that Russia…" He coughed and took another gulp of vodka.

The taller blond could see where Latvia was coming from, but he was a bit upset that he wasn't included in his rant. "I'm not exactly having a wonderful time either, you know."

"Ha!" the small blond spat. "_You_? You think you're suffering? You don't know _anything _about suffering! Russia ignores you, and takes every last bit of anger he has out on me."

"You think I _like _hearing you get tossed around?" Estonia snapped, tired of his friend's attitude. "My stomach is in knots every day, wondering if you're going to come down those stairs or if Russia's going to lock you up somewhere forever! It's not fun."

"You still don' get it, do you?" Latvia's voice took on a dangerously low tone, a few words being slurred. "Russia leaves you alone. Have you ever gotten punched by him? Kicked by him? No! You just sit around all day, sucking up to him. You don't care about me, or my well-being, you just care about yourself. You know what? You're just like Ru—"

He never got to finish his sentence; blinded by anger, Estonia drew his hand back and slapped the smaller boy across the face. He was knocked out of his chair from the force of it, and he fell to the ground, the glass dropping from his hand and shattering on the floor.

When he looked up, gone was the angry expression. His eyes were wide, and he gently placed a hand against his cheek.

Estonia took one look at the fallen boy and rushed to his side, all rage evaporating. "Latvia, I'm so sorry." He tried to grab the younger boy's hand to help him to his feet, but Latvia gasped and backed away.

"I'm sorry!" he whispered, tears falling from his unfocused eyes. "That was insubordination. I was out of line."

"What are you talking about?" Estonia stepped closer.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Russia!" Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. "I didn't mean to break it; I'll clean it up!" He then proceeded to pick up the glass shards, cutting his hands.

"Stop!" exclaimed the bespectacled boy. _What did Russia do to him?_

"No!" moaned the smaller boy. "Don't make me walk on the shards again; I couldn't walk properly for days after the last time! Please! I'll clean it up! I'm so sorry!"

That did it for Estonia. Without thinking, he knelt down and wrapped his arms around the now-trembling blond, pulling him close. _He's so skinny! _he thought, disgusted. _I can feel his ribs!_

He awkwardly placed one of his hands on Latvia's head, the other still wrapped around him. _What do I do? Lithuania was always the one who handled this sort of thing. _He slowly gripped the smaller boy's hair, trying to comfort him.

However, the gesture backfired when Latvia winced, sharply gasping. Estonia recoiled, as though his hand was on fire. _That's right, _he thought. _Russia likes to do that. I'm an idiot._

Not wanting to make the situation worse, he let go of his friend, who had slumped to the floor.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, the older boy said, "Hey, you okay?"

"E-Estonia? When did you get here? And where did Russia go?"

_What's wrong with him? I've been here the whole time! Russia was never in this room!_

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he saw a small, red stain on Latvia's white shirt. "Hey, you spilled something on your shirt. You should probably take it off and clean it before it stains."

"Huh?"

Seeing as the blond was still a bit incoherent, Estonia started undoing the buttons. "Here, let me do it."

"No, w-wait!" exclaimed Latvia.

But it was too late. The bespectacled boy had already unbuttoned and removed the shirt. He sharply took a breath as he saw the full extent of Russia's anger.

Countless bruises—some new, some old—contrasted against the small blond's pale skin. The most noticeable were the finger-shaped ones that encircled his neck.

Estonia's stomach knotted even more as he saw the source of the blood. Cyrillic letters were engraved across the younger boy's chest, creating cuts that would most likely turn into scars when they healed. He narrowed his eyes in disgust, wishing that he was never forced to learn Russian. The word was 'собственность'. 'Property'. He resisted the urge to vomit.

Without saying a word, Estonia gently rested his hand above the still-bleeding cuts. After a few seconds, he murmured, "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry."

He felt something wet on his face, and realized that he was crying. He removed his hand to take off his glasses and wipe his eyes.

"I was wrong," whispered Latvia. "You're h-hurting too." He shuddered and curled his knees to his chest, wincing when they brushed against the cuts.

"Those should be cleaned before they get infected," stated the older boy, putting his glasses back on. "How long have you had them?"

"Just got them today."

Estonia thought back to the screaming he heard in the morning, and felt sicker than he already was.

He gently led his friend into the bathroom. He carefully cleaned the deep cuts, making sure to make the process as painless as possible. Every time Latvia winced, he would stop, worried that he hurt him.

As soon as the task was completed, the taller boy gently bandaged the cuts. Remaining silent, the two then walked to their bedroom; it was eleven o'clock, and they knew that they would be expected to work tomorrow.

Without even bothering to put on pajamas, they slid onto their shared bed. The taller boy removed his glasses and gently set them on the small piece of wood he kept next to his side of the mattress. (He didn't want to risk them breaking if he put them on the ground.)

Estonia's closing eyes snapped open when he felt something warm next to him. Looking down, he realized Latvia had wrapped his arms around him, his head resting against his chest.

_That's strange, _he thought. _He's never done that before. _Usually, he would wrap his arms around Lithuania, and ever since he left, the small blond would curl up in the corner of the bed, nowhere near Estonia.

Not wanting to think, he let the warmth overtake him, and he fell asleep.

The taller boy's eyes snapped open when he felt someone shaking him.

"Huh?" Dread filled him. _Please don't let it be Russia. _

"Estonia?"

He let out his breath in relief. _It's just Latvia. _He waited a few seconds before speaking. "What is it? Do your injuries hurt?"

"H-how does it feel to be free?"

Surprised by the randomness of the question, Estonia was jolted from his half-sleep. "What? You weren't created under Russia's control, Latvia. Don't you remember?"

"No." The small blond placed a hand on the bandages that were wrapped around his chest. "All I remember is, is…_this_."

Estonia's heart broke for his friend. _He's at his limit. I don't think he can take much more. _Sadly, he knew that Russia wouldn't care; he'd keep tormenting the boy until his mind was completely shattered.

"Freedom," he finally said, "is the power to determine actions without restraint. At least that's what the dictionary says." He managed a weak smile, and ruffled Latvia's hair. "But freedom is so much more than that. It's what makes us who we are. Think of the birds that fly outside. They can go anywhere; no one orders them around. They need to move, to fly around. Being locked in a cage in unnatural for them, as it is for us. Our people know that, Latvia; this won't last forever."

"I know," the younger boy said quietly. "I can feel it; they hate this. But what can I do? I'm just so _weak_. I can't do anything, not even protect myself."

His voice wavered, and Estonia knew that he was crying. "How am I supposed to help them if I can't go a day without making some random comment that sets Russia off? They want to rebel, but I can't go against him! I just _can't_!"

Shifting positions, the older boy wrapped his arms around the younger. _He's under so much pressure; no wonder he drinks. _He could handle his people's discreet resentment of the Soviet Union, but Latvia was different; he was too young. Estonia was only two years older, but that made a difference. _A fifteen-year-old can only handle so much. He's dealing with his people _and _Russia; I'm surprised he lasted this long before breaking down. _

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured aloud. "Don't worry yourself too much, all right? Just sleep; we have to work tomorrow, remember."

Latvia said nothing, only nodding his head slightly. He rested his head on Estonia's chest again, and the taller boy could feel the tears seeping through his shirt.

He tightened his grip on his friend before closing his eyes. The last things he heard as he drifted into unconsciousness were the small blond's muffled sobs. They echoed in his mind, invading his dreams.

_Next time, _he silently vowed. _Next time, I'll step in. I can't bear to see you hurt. I was an awful friend for not realizing it sooner. I'm sorry. _

**End**

* * *

><p>...So, how was it? Good, bad, totally horrible?<p>

A couple of notes:

In this story, Lithuania goes to work for America again. This is because technically, the Soviet Union (unlawfully) annexed Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania in 1940. The 'Lithuania's Outsourcing' strips took place in the 1920's. Since I'm a stickler for historical correctness, I didn't want the Baltics to 'belong' to Russia during in the 20's. This story takes place in the mid-1940's, I guess.  
>...Though I don't think Russia would ever let Liet go to America during this time period, but whatever, XDD.<p>

If any of these facts are wrong, don't hesitate to correct me.

In my mind, Lithuania is the one who usually comforts Latvia, not Estonia. (I see Estonia as being more...in the background.) Though, since the two seem very close in the comics, I decided to have Latvia warm up to Estonia.

I have no idea if 'собственность' is the correct word for 'property' in Russian. (I searched countless translation sites, and that's what they came up with.) If anyone who reads this knows Russian, please tell me if this word is the correct one.

Thanks for reading, and please review; they make my day. :)


End file.
